Rowena and Fletcher would be devastated.
Hurting the family meant hurting one of her best friends, too.
She shook her head, eyes on the road as her car ate up the miles to the ranch.
No.
This was the right thing to do. She would not be afraid.
It wasn’t her fault that the person hurting the King family was one of their own.
Could he have also had something to do with Jack’s murder? Jack’s wife was the one to deliver the missing files. The one to reveal the depth of the betrayal that came from the most loyal source. Jack.
Who would want him to hide those files? Someone desperate enough to bribe Jack handsomely to betray the King family.
Colette doubted herself so hard that she was on the verge of turning around and going back to the city. Barricade herself in her childhood home with her parents and let them swaddle her in blankets and feed her pie. Her mother made such delicious peach pie, her mouth watered.
But no. Even peach pie couldn’t save her now. She and Marshall were in this together. The depth of what she felt for him was enough to propel her to drive. Gather her courage. Face the darkness in all its forms.
If that meant the end of something she was desperate to cling to, the risk was worth it. Anything else would be protecting a criminal. In her heart, that was unacceptable, regardless of the cost.
It was starkly beautiful, watching as the sun set over the foothills, the fields a soft verdant hue in the last dregs of daylight. Colette had always been afraid of the dark, and tonight, it encroached upon her. Swallowing up her car and following her. Her eyes kept checking the rear-view mirror.
Was someone following her? No, it was just her imagination. She was alone on the highway.
What if Jarrett King figured out that she was on to him? She shook her head.
No. There was no way. She had only known for a few hours. It would be between her and Marshall for now. It would be up to him to decide what to do with the information and who would be privy to it. What if more people were involved?
Fuck.She had never been so afraid in her life. Her hands squeezed the steering wheel for dear life. There was a risk that she would come to harm if Jarrett was indeed a killer. Or Marshall could throw her out and end their relationship to protect his family.
Her foolish courage was the only thing that drove her now.
As she drove through a more rural landscape, the streetlights were fewer, the pockets of darkness larger, and the headlights of the cars on the opposite side of the road were her only company. She was almost there. Thankfully, no cops were out tonight, because she would have to one hundred percent cry her way out of a speeding ticket.
A woman on a mission, Colette was going to blow up this case tonight.
Should she call the police? Too soon.
She and Marshall would decide what to do next together, because that was how she wanted to solve this problem. As a team.
As soon as this information was made public, she would be there for Marshall in whatever capacity he wanted. If he decided to have nothing to do with her after she destroyed his family, then she’d be pissed. But she’d respect it.
A sigh of relief erupted from her chest as a familiar driveway appeared. The car went down the dark, gravel road, passing Edith’s small house on the left.
Edith.
This would affect her, too.
The aftermath of this discovery would be far-reaching. Colette chewed her bottom lip, doubt gripping her by the throatand making her want to swallow her words. Keep the secret. Maybe she could warn Jarrett and make him stop stealing funds.
That would only work if he wasn’t Jack’s murderer. All signs pointed to him right now and tipping him off might only put her life in danger. He was the only suspect trying to sabotage the King family. His own family.
The motivation behind his actions was puzzling.
She parked the car in front of the main house, the darkness in the windows a disappointing sight. Where was Marshall? It was too early for him to be asleep. Should she wait for him at his place? The porch light was on, and she made her way to the house. A brown floof with a dramatically wagging tail waited on the other side of the door.
Apparently, Marshall didn’t follow his own rules about locking doors. She would have to needle him about it later, if the time for playful needling ever returned.
